Wild Thing
by AnJL
Summary: A little futurefic filler while I beta the big one - for anyone that liked Bedtime Story :)


~Nobody over three foot tall belongs to me. A little filler while I beta the big one. Don't feel like being angsty for a bit...~  
  
Wild Thing  
  
A clear, cold day in Metropolis. A bright, crisp afternoon outside a nursery school. The man running up the steps glances at his watch, curses softly. He feels extremely out of place here. But his wife had been insistent - no nannies, no tutors. Their daughter was going to grow up with other children - 'so she doesn't end up as weird and twisted as her father.'  
  
And usually it worked out fine. It wasn't just any nursery - meritocratic principles only went so far - no compromise on the quality of education and excellent security. But normally his wife did the afternoon pick-up. Today, though, she was running late, and he was half the city nearer.  
  
He would rather face a board meeting than a room full of five year olds.  
  
Instant recognition of him, and that he's a parent. Conscious that he's being looked at, and that he's pretty much the only man there, certainly the only one in a suit. Recognition by someone else as well. Small hand tugs at his pants leg.  
  
"Hi, Daddy."  
  
"Hi, pumpkin." Squats down carefully. "You had a good day?"  
  
"Yeah." She looks past him. "Where's Mom?"  
  
"She had to talk to some people, so you get to ride home with me."  
  
"Cool." Sunny grin, the image of her mother's.  
  
"What have you been doing today?"  
  
"Quiet reading." She rolls her eyes. "Kinda boring." Rummages in her bag, pulls out a brightly-coloured book. "What's this word mean?"  
  
Incautiously, he takes the book. Instantly, every child's eye swivels round. Two nearby flop down. More join them. He's at bay in a circle of expectant faces.  
  
He's been sand-bagged. Looks down at his daughter. Who sits down placidly.  
  
He can't put the book down. There will be tears. But he can't bring himself to read anything with talking bunnies in it. Looks down at the book in trepidation.  
  
"You are in such trouble, young lady."  
  
"You will be if you don't read." Brief staring match. "I could pinch Jenny and make her cry?"  
  
"I'm reading." Definitely his daughter. He sits on a chair made for someone half his size, opens the book.  
  
"The night Max wore his wolf-suit and made mischief of one kind..."  
  
***  
  
Lois Lane Kent fumbles in her bag for her phone, leans back against a wall, whispers into it.   
  
"Get over here now - there is something that you -have- to see." Pause, and she feels the air behind her -shift-.   
  
"What?" He's turned up incognito. Leans round her shoulder.  
  
Lex Luthor, the other most powerful man in Metropolis, on a very small chair. Reading a story.  
  
"He got sucker-punched, then?"  
  
"She's a class act."   
  
In the front row, a small girl with red hair in two bunches. Next to her, a dark-haired boy. He half-turns, gives his parents a grin.  
  
The reader looks up, catches sight of the two foremost investigative journalists in the city. Looks hunted.  
  
"You could rescue him, you know."  
  
"And have to lead the wild rumpus? Oh no, I'm enjoying this too much." He smiles, gives a little wave. If looks could kill, he'd be wallpaper.  
  
The little girl senses the straying attention, reaches out and jabs her father's knee. Defeated, he picks up the book again.  
  
He's never had an audience this attentive. Not all of it is five.  
  
His devil child grins at him when he finishes.   
  
"It's -much- better when someone else reads it." she says. "And you do the stare really well."  
  
Slightly stunned parents and nannies are collecting their children. One child breaks free, runs back.  
  
"Thank you." she says, runs away again.   
  
"An appreciative audience. Maybe you could get a regular slot?"  
  
"Don't give her ideas." He glares at his friend, down at his child. Who returns his gaze thoughtfully. "No!"  
  
Clark leans over.  
  
"I got the Cat in the Hat."  
  
"Green Eggs and Ham," admits Lois. They all look down.  
  
"You have them -trained-?"   
  
She shrugs, holds his hand confidently.  
  
"It wasn't hard. When they pick up the book, sit down and look."  
  
"Eleanor Luthor..."  
  
"You're the best reader we've had." Big eyes. "Honest. Tell him, Jon."  
  
Jon Kent grins.   
  
"Yeah. Sorry, Dad."  
  
"You have to raise your game to compete with a Luthor." says Clark wryly.   
  
"What did you get your mother to read?"  
  
Scornful look.  
  
"Don't be silly. Mom wouldn't fall for it."  
  
The three adults exchange looks.  
  
Leni Luthor sighs. Adults are so -silly-. She tugs at her father's hand.  
  
"C'mon. We better get home. You can get dinner ready for Mom when she comes in."  
  
~I know she's meant to be Lena. -You- tell her.~ 


End file.
